


Hell Hath No Fury

by Prince_of_Trash



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Dark Comedy, I continue to laugh at my own jokes, Protective Red, Psychopaths In Love, Red POV, Red and Cletus get off to killing people, There's a weird blow job at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 22:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18061349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_of_Trash/pseuds/Prince_of_Trash
Summary: After being separated from Cletus Kasady, the Carnage Symbiote, aka Red, goes on a rampage to return to him.





	Hell Hath No Fury

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I noticed there was no Red/Cletus stuff, or at least not anything where they interact and are the main focus, so like, here I go trying to remedy that. Now, I'm really not good at writing smut or anything shippy, but I gave it the old college try! 
> 
> This goes out to all 6 of my fellow Carnage fans. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also this story gets a lot funnier if you listen to Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers when Red finds Cletus.

A government psychologist was being eaten alive by a possessed man wearing nothing but rollerblades and a pair of speedos. Several rats scuttled away into the shadows to escape the scene, and as the psychologist let out a final gurgle, the creature inhabiting speedo-man's body materialized.

At the same time, the back door to the fast food restaurant opened to reveal a tired-looking teenage boy holding a trash bag.

The creature, although vaguely humanoid in shape thanks to speedo man acting as a base, was clearly not. The interruption was not welcome, and the red and black monster whipped around to face the hapless employee. Its frayed eye spots met his blank stare and it roared, extending a several bladed tendrils in a clear threat.

The boy merely blinked once, dropped the bag of trash, and closed the door as if he had simply walked into the wrong room.

The creature, satisfied enough by this, made an executive decision not to waste time murdering an underpaid busboy. It had a mission to complete, and there were plenty of warm bodies to mow down where it was going.

Becoming whole again was on the line, and after it swallowed the last bits of distinguished psychologist, the monster retreated back inside speedo-man. It picked up the boombox he had been holding prior to infection, and prepared itself. 

The psychologist had given the monster the information it needed before his demise, and it had been confined to a fancy tube of reinforced glass long enough to know time was not on its side.

 **We are coming for you, Cletus Kasady** _,_ it thought to itself. **It’s taken way longer than it should, but we’re coming.**

The speedo-man had nothing to add because his brain stem had already been eaten as a quaint appetizer.

The creature took one last look around the alley, and hissed at the shattered glass of its containment tube. Forcing its way through a microscopic crack had been a terribly unpleasant experience, but at least its former jailer was now lunch.

Now, with a goal in mind, it skated out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Its destination was already close, so there was no time to take in its newfound freedom. Becoming whole again was on the line.

Without Cletus Kasady—its original and true host—the creature was not who it should be. Cletus had given it a name and an identity. To him, it was not an it, but a she, and her name was Red.

The wheels of the roller blades hissed across the pavement, and Red made no effort to skate around her fellow pedestrians. Instead, she opted to bulldoze through them and send a some into the street and over the hoods of passing cars.

There were a few shouts of “Watch where you’re going!” but a few projectile darts of hardened biomass through some heads served as great argument detertents.

The primal urge to relish her kills was nearly overwhelming, but Red resisted. She was late, and nothing, not even her own nature, was going to stand between her and Cletus. She manipulated the muscles in her host’s face into a murderous scowl, prompting a few people to jump away in fear.

She snaked out a tendril and adjusted the dials on the boombox until “Bring on the Noise” by Anthrax blasted from the speakers. Heavy metal never failed to get her excited for the hunt, and Anthrax was by far her favorite source of rage-inducing noise. She often made Cletus listen to them before they went on a rampage, and now even alone, she was going to make them pay for what they took from her. Humans should know that separating a wife from her husband was cruel. It was their own custom, after all. How did the saying go?

 **Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,** she hissed out. She was not a woman biologically, for her kind had no gender, but she was whatever Cletus wanted her to be: a tool, his will, his blood, his wife, and she would do all that and more.

Weakness to fire be damned, she was going to burn this cesspool of human waste called New York City to the ground along with anyone who stood between them.  

She extended wave of tendrils from the speedo-man’s hand, and flipped a hotdog stand out of her path. She skated down another alley and into a street consisting of bougie apartment buildings.

They were going to pay, starting with the black Lexus coasting down the road. It contained a woman named Dr. Andrea Davenport, and the good doctor was going to bring her through Ravencroft’s security and straight to Cletus whether she wanted to or not.

Red skidded to a stop in the Lexus’s path and raised the raging boombox above the host’s head. She could see the whites of the driver’s eyes and Dr. Davenport in the backseat scrolling through a tablet. Red covered speedo-man’s body again, revealing herself in all of her crimson and black glory.

The driver barely had time to hit the breaks as Red sent the boombox flying. It shattered the windshield and crushed the man’s head in a splatter of blood mist and bone chips. Dr. Davenport’s scream rose as Red’s talons ripped through the roller blades and she braced herself for impact. She slammed into the front of the Lexus, digging the hooked claws of her fingers into the metal.

It shrieked as the hood of the car bent to her will. Red let out a bellowing roar as she bent at the knees and lifted the car above her head. Dr. Davenport fell forward against the front seat, screaming like banshee.

“Give him back!” she roared, opening her jagged maw as far as it would go to show Ravencroft's director what awaited her. “Give me back my family!”

Red spun on her heel and sent the Lexus flying into a nearby apartment building. A few bystanders were crushed in the impact, and the brick of the building crumbled as the Lexus’s metal corpse collided and landed on its roof, wheels still spinning. Red hopped on the car and immediately ripped into it as she was gutting an animal.

Her claws raked away the pipes and exhaust until she was able to smell the perfume of Dr. Davenport. Red’s eyespots honed in on her prey. The woman had managed to undo her seatbelt and laid crumpled on the roof of the car, now host to a bed of glass. She tried to crawl forward, the nails of her expensive manicure causing the shards to click together.

Upon Red’s intrusion Davenport looked up and immediately started sobbing.

How irritating.

Cletus loved it when their victims cried, but Red hated it. In fact, she hated most things about humans other than how satisfying it was to flay them open.  

“Please, no,” Davenport begged. Her legs were covered in lacerations, but she kicked them regardless as Red reached into the hole and grabbed her by her once impeccably styled hair. “No!” she wailed, desperately clawing at Red’s hand. “Let me go! Help! Help!”

“Shut up!” Red snarled, yanking her out of the wreckage. She stared into the woman’s face and opened her mouth to let her prehensile tongue out. The air around her tasted like burning exhaust and floral perfume.

The other psychologist had told her this woman was the one who hired Cletus’s new psychiatrist, the one that was slowly destroying him. Her brown hair was soft and mascara ran down her blood-streaked face. “You are going to take us to Cletus,” she hissed. “And then we are going to eat you from the inside out until you are nothing but a scrap of fake-tanned skin!”    

Davenport's mouth fell open in horror, and Red took the que to rip herself away from speedo-man’s body and begin again.

 

***

 **Make yourself look pretty** , Red said as Dr. Davenport shakily brushed the glass and knots out of her hair. After hijacking her body, Red had taken the good doctor to a public restroom in order for the woman to spruce herself up enough to pass security. **Can’t have you looking like you were in a wreck.**

“I’m doing my best.” Davenport’s voice was shrill with terror, but also whiney, and that was something Red couldn’t stand. As punishment, she ruptured the host’s right kidney and devoured the remains.

Davenport toppled against the grimy sink with a wail and clutched her back. Red didn’t allow the pain to fester for too long, and numbed the woman’s nervous system enough to where she was functional.  

“The wreck is already being covered by the news!” Davenport screamed, bracing her hands against the edges of the sink. “You disintegrated my driver’s head with a boombox and threw my Lexus into a fucking apartment building!”

 **Yes, and when we get there, you’ll say that you managed to escape the massacre before we threw your car,** Red said **. Or should we show you the beautiful body collage we made together to remind you that we’re very good at eliminating witnesses?**

Davenport closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. Her lungs were tight with anxiety and the stress levels in her brain made Red all the more amused. “Please don’t.”

 **Then shut up and look pretty. You have no right to feel sorry for yourself. The moment you took him from us, you sealed your fate,** Red growled from within Davenport’s mind.

“What if they don’t believe me? What happens if they find out you’ve hijacked my body?”

**Then I’ll dissolve your organs and cut everyone down to get to him.**

“All that for Cletus Kasady?” Davenport asked.

 **No, fucking Donald Duck, of course Cletus Kasady,** Red said. **We didn’t chase you down on roller blades in the body of some loser for you to ask dumbass questions.** **Carnage will be one being again, and you are going to make it happen.**

“We’re trying to help him,” Davenport insisted. “I promise you, we aren’t doing anything to hurt him.”

That was a crock of horse shit if Red ever heard it, and she had heard and smelled a lot of shit in her life. In fact, the stench of prison sewer pipes was her introduction to life when her symbiote parent abandoned her in favor of its meat head host, so she was very accustomed.

**Let’s see about that.**

“What are—?”

Red drilled into Davenport’s brain. The human’s pain receptors blazed as the symbiote delved deep. She searched through memories of Cletus and saw her perfect host locked in a solitary cell and shackled. Even in just the context of a memory, seeing his face made Red miss him even more.

He stared blankly from between the bars as a well-dressed middle-aged man asked him questions. True to form, Cletus’s responses were cryptic and threatening. 

She continued searching, until she was standing in an observatory, looking down at Cletus strapped to a table. He was unconscious, with two electrodes attached to his temples. A few doctors stood around him, while another manned a machine that sent electricity straight to his brain.

 **YOU FUCKING COW!** Red roared, taking the energy to materialize outside of Davenport’s body. She formed a face showcasing her jagged teeth. Her eyespots nearly engulfed the top half of her head as she stared the director of Ravencroft down. **YOU’RE USING ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY?**

She and Cletus had endured electroshock therapy together as Carnage when Ashley Kafka was the director of Ravencroft. Red had protected him from the pain, taking most of it upon herself as Cletus taunted Kafka on both of their behalves, but this time she wasn’t there. He was alone, and she could do nothing to protect him. Everyone in that institution was going to pay in blood, and she pushed that intent to Davenport until the woman cowered before her, hands raised as if they would be enough to stop Red’s wrath.

“It’s not the same as it was back then!” Davenport cried. “It’s not even called electroshock therapy anymore. It’s electroconvulsive therapy! It’s been modified and he’s under general anesthesia so he can’t feel anything!”

“It doesn’t matter what you call it, you’re inducing seizures!” Red yelled out loud. Her voice filled the shit hole of a public toilet. “And we’re not there!” she said, wrapping a few tendrils around Davenport’s neck and squeezing until the woman’s eyes filled with tears. “We’re not there to protect him!” She constricted the woman’s windpipe for a few seconds longer and then released her. Davenport fell back and gasped, coughing and gagging.

“P-Please,” she wheezed. “Please.” She swallowed roughly and Red watched her attempt to collect herself and come up with an excuse. Nothing would ease Red’s fury. There wasn’t an excuse for this. “We’re helping him. We want to help him process his childhood trauma so he doesn’t suffer anymore.”  

“He doesn’t need to process it. I protect him from it. I modify it so it fuels his rage, not his pain.”

Davenport stared up at her with watery eyes, and beneath the fear there was a spark of realization. “You’re the reason his memories are so jumbled and inconsistent. You’re why he can’t give us a straight backstory.”

“For the most part,” Red said. “We were both in pain and suffering when we became whole together. He was so hurt and angry at what was done to him, I just took away the hurt.” She grinned. “On the other hand though, he _really_ likes fucking with therapists.”

“That’s not protecting him, that’s enabling his need for killing! He’s suffering, don’t you understand?” Davenport asked. “I know you’re a symbiote, but from what I understand of your kind, you can feel what your host feels.”  

“Being complete is not suffering,” Red said. “Cletus Kasady will always want chaos. It doesn’t matter what happened to him in the past. He killed before me, and the only difference now is that he feels even better doing it. We complete each other in every sense of the word when we are Carnage.”  

“You can’t be serious,” Davenport said, her voice now steady despite her fear. “You took away any chance he had to process the damage done to him. It’s wrong to alter someone’s entire life! You have to know that! You’ve created a scrambled mess of a person by repressing his true past. How could you do that to someone you claim to love?” The doctor was growing a pair of balls too big for Red’s taste, but it was grudgingly admirable.  

“Because he asked me to,” Red replied. She formed two gangly arms and braced them on either side of Davenport. The woman’s fear immediately returned with a vengeance, and she cowered against a nearby stall. “And I do whatever he asks.” Red swirled around her until Davenport was in a cage of serrated biomass. “He told us he never wanted to remember a time when he was weak, so we made Nana Kasady kind, and Roscoe Kasady a man who only wanted to protect his child from his deranged wife. Now, he can feel like he killed them just because he could. It allows him to better accept how truly powerful he is.”

“That’s…he asked you for that?” Red didn’t like the way Davenport looked at her. It made her feel like hundreds of tiny needles were prodding at her, and she had quite enough of that during her imprisonment.  

“Enough with the questions. Finish up and call a taxi.” Red retreated back into Davenport’s body and forced her to her feet. **I’m getting hungry.**

 

***

 

   

Passing Ravencroft security had been easy while wearing Davenport as a disguise. The director was still trying in vain to come up with a plan to stop this, not knowing Red could hear every thought.

Upon passing the front door and the gauntlet of security staff, it took a massive effort on Red’s part to resist killing everyone in sight. Now wasn’t the time. She and Cletus were going take their vengeance together as Carnage. What kind of wife would she be if she didn’t save something for him?

_Wife? You think you’re a woman?_

**We are whatever Cletus wants us to be.**

_Then you would want what was best for him if you really loved him like a wife._

**Is that why you’re having an affair with Cletus’s psychiatrist conveniently after hiring him?**

Davenport’s body tensed up. Red felt it in every muscle her tendrils wound through. Clearly this was a sore spot, and so the only reasonable thing to do was fucking beat it repeatedly.

**Dr. Robert Montgomery, is it? Your mind is quite the treasure trove of useful information. Have you ever considered writing a self help column?**

Davenport’s mind whirled itself into a frenzy, attempting to hide the memories of being wrapped in Dr. Montgomery’s arms. Red knew it was no use. She saw every one of them as Andrea Davenport hastily tucked them further into her mind.

It wasn’t like Red couldn’t reach there, what with her having total dominion over Davenport. No, Red made a show of bringing them forth to watch again. The sensations that came with sex were powerful even in hindsight.

**Don’t bother trying to hide it, doc. You’re an open book in here, although this miasma of ego and misery you call a mind is seriously getting old. Good thing we’re dropping in to give Dr. Montgomery a surprise visit.**

_Don’t you dare hurt him!_ Images came forth of Doctor Montgomery’s gentle smile and perfectly quaffed blond hair. Everything about him was sterile and uninteresting, but there was no mistaking the rush of phenethylamine. Red snickered at the knowledge that he was definitely Davenport’s type: cold and distant enough to be a challenge, but generically attractive enough to keep her wanting. She had hired him based more off of that than his credentials. Davenport refused to admit that even to herself, but Red had come to know the Ravencroft Director better than she knew herself. _You will not touch him unless I die first!_  

 **Kitten has some claws,** Red said, bemused. **Don’t worry, he’ll join you in death, and your actual husband will be none the wiser. Here, let me remind you of all the time you spent together.**

_No, please…_

Red pulled forth a memory of Davenport bent over her desk with her pencil skirt pushed up over her ass. Doctor Montgomery plowed her from behind, his sultry blue eyes glancing at the mirror every-so-often to give himself a lustful stare. Davenport moaned and gasped like a drowning whale, and ignored her ringing cell phone. Fucking comedy gold.

_Stop._

**Why?** Red pushed an image of her own sneering maw through their bond. It was quickly replaced by one of Davenport buck naked in a hotel room, riding Montgomery into the sunset. She moaned and rocked against him, guiding his hands over her body. Meanwhile, Montgomery sneaked those wanton glances at himself, and it was quite apparent that this asshole wanted to, quite literally, fuck himself. After the subtlest threesome to ever happen, Davenport rolled over and texted her husband that the Kasady case would keep her at Ravencroft all night.

Red was even so kind as to give even more life to the memories by replicating the smell of Montgomery’s musk and sensations of his hands via a few tweaks to the olfactory receptors and nerves. She revelled in the repulsion and shame flooding the emotional centers of Davenport’s brain, and converted the chemicals into even more mass. It was so good. Too good. Connected so intricately to Davenport’s nervous system made her ache for Cletus’s touch and the comforts of the atrocities in his mind.

_Stop it!_

**This was your decision. You don’t get to hide from it now, Andrea. Face your betrayal.** She forced Davenport down a few more halls, restricting her facial muscles so she could only smile politely at her passing coworkers.   

Red felt the tug of Cletus’s mind the closer she moved her hijacked host towards his cell. Davenport’s body fought her influence with every primitive, inferior cell. Antibodies swarmed around Red’s tendrils like piranhas, trying in vain to eat away at the infection, unaware they nipped at the impenetrable hide of a shark.   

Red’s biomass was pulsated as it added to itself in preparation to return to her true host. Andrea Davenport’s body was ill-fitted and inferior. Microscopic tendrils wove through the doctor’s heart and lungs, eating away at the tissue as she forced the human’s legs forward.

 _You’re hurting me…please…let me go._ Davenport’s thoughts were as quiet as they were pathetic. She clung to life even as Red ruptured organ after organ to grow. She would need every ounce of strength to free Cletus from this prison.

**Good. We want it to hurt.**

_Please…I have a son._

**It’s not like he’ll notice anything different when you’re not around.**

_Fuck you._

**You took our family from us. Your crotch spawn means nothing. Hell, our own mean nothing.** The woman’s heels clicked unevenly down the hallway, her legs stiff as she tried in vain to fight Red’s control.

 _You’ve given birth?_ Hope of having a common ground bled into Davenport’s panic, and if Red could, she would have shaken her head in amusement. Feeling and seeing all of Davenport’s thoughts was like watching a quadriplegic puppy struggle to escape the jaws of a much bigger, nastier dog.

 **A few times,** Red said. **Wish we could have eaten at least one of them. They looked delicious.** Disgust and newfound panic rushed through their bond, and Davenport struggled harder to break free. There was no use. This foolish human who called herself an expert at matters of the mind, had no idea the lengths Red would go through to be with her true host. Dominating the mind and body of an insecure narcissist was child’s play. **Oh, calm down. Once we have Cletus, this will all be over.**

_No, you can’t free him…the therapy. It’s helping him._

**He can’t survive without us. We are his blood.**

_You can’t! You’ll destroy all the progress he’s made._

**There is no progress. He’s yanking all your dicks around, and even if this ‘progress’ is happening, you are destroying what makes him beautiful, and you will not stop us. We…** **_I_ ** **will burn this asylum to the ground.**

_Why can’t you let him heal?_

**You can’t heal entropy. We are chaos.**

_He_ **_is_ ** _healing. He doesn’t need you anymore._

 **He will always need me!** Red tore Davenport’s liver from its spot and consumed it so the inferior host felt every ounce of pain.

_Can’t you find someone else to bond with? Why go through all this trouble for him?_

**Because he’s the only thing I love.** Even in her fractured state, she felt it with every cell in her viscous body. Red needed to be Carnage. She knew Cletus needed to be Carnage. They were one, and she did not hijack the body of some asshole wearing nothing but a pair of speedos to be swayed by the sniveling thoughts of a corporate fool.

Finally, Red heard the rough southern accent that never failed to amuse her. Another voice, this one distinctly British (oh, he was British, of _fucking_ course. Only the finest imported dick for Andrea) spoke curtly and with enough ego to make Red want to eat him from the feet up.

She made Davenport reach for the doorknob. A surprising amount of resistance, coupled with a few rosy images of Dr. Montgomery’s face, made the action harder than it needed to be.

 **Andrea,** Red crooned from her place inside Davenport’s mind. **I promise you that even when he’s balls deep inside you, you’re the last thing on his mind. So, like, not only are you wasting** **_my_ ** **time, you look like a dumbass.**     

_It’s not just about him. I can’t let you free Kasady._

**Oh, my poor misguided child,** **_your_ ** **man is the last thing between me and** **_mine_ ** **. So, there’s only one way this is going to go.** She flexed the tendrils laced through Davenport’s fingers backwards. Every joint cracked apart simultaneously, and Red severed Davenport’s vocal chords before she could scream. Tears rolled down her face as Red rapidly healed all injuries and opened the door while Davenport was still blindsided from pain.  

The room inside was stark white and sterile. A massive solitary cell stood in the middle of the room and in front of it was a plush black chair that Red figured was probably moved in here specifically for Montgomery’s comfort.

The blond psychologist peeked over the back of his chair and smiled. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, and his blond hair a quaffed statue of product.

“Andrea,” he said warmly. “What a surprise! How can we help you?”

Wow, first names? There was no subtly there at all. What a fucking prick. Red’s disgust was soon banished, however, by the sight of the man sitting behind the bars. Waves of red hair stood up at odd angles and his expression radiated irritation and boredom. All in all, it looked as if he had just been rudely woken up from a nap. Red felt herself tighten her hold in Davenport’s chest, but she had to keep it together for just a few seconds longer.

She made Davenport close and lock the metal door behind them. “I’m here for him.” She nodded to Cletus, who watched her with newfound interest.

“Well, Mr. Kasady and I are about wrapped up if you don’t mind waiting another moment?” Montgomery suggested.

“Oh,” Red forced Davenport to say as she walked further into the room, “I’m not waiting another second.” Biomass engulfed Davenport’s body and Red let out a shrieking roar. The neutral smile on Montgomery’s face vanished. He stood abruptly from his chair and backed away closer to Cletus’s cell.

 _Nooooooo! Pleaaaseee! Don’t hurt him! I’ll do anything!_  

 **Don’t worry.** **_I’m_ ** **not going to hurt him.** Red shot her tendrils out, ripped the cell’s door off its hinges, and broke the restraints of the shackles around Cletus’s wrists and ankles.

Montgomery’s head whipped around at the sound of clattering chains and he immediately tried to make a run for it. Red sent a wave of biomass after him, and made it wrap around his ankles.

“Now, don’t run out on your woman,” she scolded, dragging him across the floor until he was sprawled in front of Cletus. She forced him up to his knees and constricted around him until she felt the groan of his ribcage.

“C-Cletus,” he breathed out. “Cletus. You have to help me. Our sessions together. We’re making so much progress.” His eyes were panicked, and it was the most emotion Red had ever seen grace his clinical features: sex with Davenport when there were no mirrors around included.

Cletus stared at the display before him, his face unreadable. He stood from the stool he had been chained to and bent down to pick up the severed shackles. He exited the cell, rubbing his wrists as he went. “You think so?” he asked, his tone light.

“I know so. Cletus!” Montgomery said with obviously feigned confidence. “You’ve told me so much about you. How you lived with your mother and father in the deep south of Texas. The abuse. How your father made you work in the corn fields until you passed out from exhaustion!”

Red chuffed a few times, which was the closest she could come to laughing. _That_ was the backstory Cletus gave these assholes? She made a note to applaud him for selling this to the so-called experts.     

“That truly was a rough time in my life.” Cletus stretched the chain between two hands. “My Daddy would sometimes even take me out to the pasture and make me stand as a scarecrow for three days straight. If I fell asleep, he would beat me with a sock full of rocks.”

“That’s horrible, Cletus,” Montgomery said, unable to hide the terrified tremble in his voice. “Tell the symbiote to leave you so you can properly heal from it. I’m the only one who can help you. I _want_ to help you. You can be well. I promise you.”

 **You sure can pick them, Andrea.** Red watched this shameless display, and giddily danced across the surface of Davenport’s brain.

“Robert, you and being repeatedly electrocuted against my will _has_ truly put me on the path to recovery.” Cletus sauntered over until he was standing directly behind Montgomery, the thin chain glinting in the white light. “For that, you have my thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Cletus, and we can make even more progress.” He couldn’t have been this stupid. “I can do this. I can make you better. You said this creature listens to you. Tell it to let me go, and I’ll give you back your Mötley Crüe CDs, and we’ll continue on this path to recovery.” He said that with an alarming amount of confidence, like he was giving a pep talk instead of making a case for his life. Apparently, he was that stupid. Color Red amazed. “Your mind doesn’t have to be confined to Texas anymore.”  

“That does sound lovely.” Cletus looked down at Montgomery and twisted the chain between his fingers thoughtfully. “But, there’s one problem.”

“W-What?” Montgomery stuttered out. His eyes were so wide with terror, that deep wrinkles formed around them. Red felt his body quake with adrenaline.

A malicious grin curved like a sickle across Cletus’s cheeks. “I’m from Brooklyn.” The false southern accent was gone, and Montgomery’s face crumbled into utter defeat.

“You’re kidding m—”

Cletus flipped the chain over Montgomery’s head and pulled.

Red released her hold on the psychologist, and stepped back to take in the beauty of Cletus at work. Montgomery almost shouted for help until the thin chain dug into his windpipe. He gagged helplessly while tears and snot ran down his face. He clawed at the chain, prompting Cletus to pull harder. “Now, now,” he grunted out with another tug, “don’t make me look bad in front of the missus.”      

Cletus lifted his head and smiled at her like a man who found enlightenment. The muscles in his arms trembled with the force of strangling Montgomery. The psychiatrist wheezed and clutched at the thin chain around his neck. The blood vessels in his eyes burst, but still he reached desperately in Davenport’s direction.

Red forced Davenport to her knees.

_What are you doing?_

**Returning the gift.** Red attached thousands of strands to every major organ. **_Cheerio, Andrea!_ **She made sure the manifestation of her voice within Davenport’s mind had a terrible British accent.

She receded from Davenport’s face and proceeded to consume her internal organs at a pace that would match the rate of Montgomery’s strangulation. Blood rushed out of Davenport’s mouth and splattered on the floor as she reached for Montgomery, who’s face had taken a bluish sheen.

Red allowed it, for when she formed a stalk of tendrils and two elongated white eyes, Cletus in his element was quite the enrapturing sight. He watched her intently, and it her made her feel as if she were more beautiful than a freshly slayed body. Cletus told her that when someone was in love, sometimes their hearts sped up upon seeing their special someone. Red was sure that if she possessed a heart of her own, it would be hammering away. Cletus pressed his foot against the small of Montgomery's back and pulled back harder on the chain.

Red was pretty sure she felt the symbiote equivalent of swooning.

He was so unrelenting, so vicious, and oh so beautiful. A few of Red’s tendrils flowed towards him, longing for his familiarity.

He never took his eyes off of hers. The fluorescent lights of the room shone behind him, lining his red hair in a golden halo of light. His smile, radiating excitement and pure adoration, made him look like a frenzied angel of death.

 **Cletus...Cletus...oh, how I missed you.** A crunch and wet snap, followed by Davenport’s sobbing gurgling, filled the space between them. Her right lung was delicious.         

“Hi Red,” Cletus said coyly. His knuckles were white with the force of his grip. Montgomery still reached a hand out towards Davenport. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Be quiet, Cletus Kasady,” she said out loud, bashfully turning her head to the side as she tore through the rest of Davenport’s ribcage and sent half eaten organs splattering onto the floor. Davenport let out one last strangled gurgle before she collapsed on the pile of her own gore, her hand still outstretched towards her lover.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Cletus said. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He yanked on the chain one last time. An audible crunch sounded from where the metal dug into Montgomery’s neck, and he went limp. Cletus released the chain and Montgomery's corpse landed on the tile with a thud.

Red consumed the last of Davenport’s flesh until she was just a pile of bones, and then slithered across the floor. She had no shape, just a wave of elation at seeing the only thing that mattered to her standing there for the taking.

She stopped in front Cletus and took him in. His eyes were like the greenish fires of Hell, and the flames of his irises reflected in the stark white of hers. She served as a reflection of the madness that made Cletus Kasady so magnetic. She could stare at him forever and never be less smitten.

He braced on foot on the back of Montgomery’s head and extended a hand towards her. “Missus Kasady,” he said. She wasted no time in extending thin tendrils and curling them gently around his fingers.

Red already knew she would endure an inferno to keep him safe, but as he pulled her close, his body inviting her back into perfect symbiosis, an indescribable feeling flooded their newly forged bond.   

“Took you long enough.” Cletus reached a hand out and gently caressed the side of Red’s face with the backs of his fingers. She leaned into it, eyes closing just enough so her sight could hone in on his face. His name replayed in her mind like a mantra, his scent soothing her longing. He gave her everything she needed. Cletus Kasady was the only being who could sate her need for carnage.  

 **Hard to find you. They were clever this time.** She wrapped more tendrils around his hands like spider webs, until they fused together to form her talons.

“I know, baby,” Cletus murmured. His nails dug slightly into her black-veined skin. “But no one can stop entropy.”

 **No.** Her eyes met his, and the sickly green of them reminded her of bruised, dehydrated skin stretched over bones. She couldn’t help but stare into them. **They can’t.**

Cletus pressed his forehead to hers, and waltzed with her over to Montgomery’s chair. He plopped down with an elated sigh while Red affectionately nuzzled the tip of his nose. He sat back in the plush chair, inviting her closer. Her thinner tendrils brushed over his face and hair to reacquaint themselves with every angle.

This was her face as well, and staring at it from the outside carried a sense of wrongness that Red was more than eager to banish. His body was her body. His mind was her mind. Despite not being truly female, Red was what Cletus Kasady needed her to be, and she was his wife. She moved closer to him, her viscous biomass in constant motion like a red and black banner.

Her mouth split horizontally, parting the jagged edges of her teeth. Digestive saliva dripped down her blackened fangs. To anyone else, it would seem as if a hellish ghost were about to devour the man sitting before it. His eyes held hers with a frantic, mad longing.  

 **Let me kiss you**. Her voice was a soft whisper within Kasady’s mind.

“You ain’t gonna butter me up, first?” he asked with a lilt of playfulness.

She stared at him thoughtfully. Red had never been one for words. It was much easier to push feelings and images through their bond and have Cletus know from his core what she wanted. For him she would try though. **Your skin…is pale…and feels like a damp mushroom.**

“Holy shit.” Cletus inhaled sharply. “That’s about the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

 **Good,** she said, pleased with herself as she gently pressed her mouth to Kasady’s. His lips were so delicate. If she moved the wrong way she could have shredded them. It was poetic, she thought, that she had the ability to tear him apart from the inside, yet the thought of doing so was akin to suicide for her.

Despite his weaker body, Red had watched in awe upon first taking refuge in his blood, his memories of killing. They had fueled her, helped her grow and become part of him. The fear and helplessness her father abandoned her with, had been converted into primal rage that felt so fucking right.

Two swarths of red tendrils twisted out from the main stalk of what held her face. They fused together into well-muscled arms that connected to the taloned hands already holding Cletus’s. Red released them to cradle his face, ever so gentle to prevent cutting him. She could take his head off at any second, and he knew it, for when they parted from their sweet kiss his eyes burned with the manic excitement.

He tilted his head to give her better access to his jugular vein, and she obliged him by ever-so-lightly running the serrated edges of her talons across his skin. Cletus’s satisfaction was enough to make her purr as she drank in the chemicals. This was what love was, she thought, to know someone possessed the means to wipe your meaningless existence away, but confident enough in your power over them to know they’d never.

Cletus was the one who gave her a name, a purpose, a home, and the other half of herself in the form of his physical body. In return she emulated a wife, acting as his will as they perpetuated the chaos of the universe.

Red brought her claws to the curve of his shoulder. His orange prison jumper was the only barrier between them. Unsatisfied by this, she manifested a few more tendrils beneath the cloth. She pressed herself into every curve of his muscles and his ribs.

 **I missed my body.** Her voice was thick with desire as she entwined microscopic strands of herself between the fiber of his being. She wanted to touch everything until she could account for all of him.

“Why don’t you come in here, then?” Cletus traced the edges of her eyespots with his fingers and brought her face closer to his. She offered no resistance, for she was powerless when it came to him. Cletus Kasady was her only family, and that was more than fine by her.

They tried to destroy him, but Red reassured herself that she was here. That she was still his wife and that they were the same person. She brushed her fangs across his cheek. Her clawtips ran down the front of his uniform. Her tendrils still caressed his upper body, but she wanted to more.

 **Can I touch you?** She let a few tendrils snake down his outer thighs and curl just beyond their insides, waiting for permission.

“You’re always touching me,” Cletus said.

 **That’s not what I mean, Cletus Kasady,** she said. **I want to touch you as a wife.**

Cletus’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well shit. You sure?” he asked, letting his fingers dip into her biomass. Red formed a neck and shoulders so Cletus could hold her more efficiently. He picked up on what she wanted and immediately wrapped his arms around her like he would another human if he didn’t despise his own kind.  

 **Yes. The woman was fucking your psychologist and the sensations…intrigued me.**  

“Huh.” Cletus looked over to the pile of bones, and then to the bluish purple corpse of Montgomery. “Go Robert.” She wrapped around him further to pull them closer together.

**Cletus, focus.**

“Oh, right. You’re wanting to…have sex? Like, right here?” He laughed with a hint of coyness and ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, seeing you eat someone alive while they watch their lover’s murder always turns me on.”

 **I know,** Red said smugly. **I’m your other half.**

“We might have a time limit.” Cletus grinned as he brushed his thumb down her jaw.  

 **It’ll be quick**. She mimicked the motion, and grazed his bottom lip with the tip of a claw. Cletus pressed against it, almost enough to puncture the delicate skin, but not quite. The twinge of pain radiated through their bond and Red felt him shudder beneath her.

“Alright, then,” he murmured. “I’m all yours.”           

Red made sure Cletus could feel the same euphoria those words brought forth. She felt his lungs hitch, his fingers curl into her flowing body, and she opened her mind completely to him. He was hers in every sense of the word, just as much as she was his. He had taken an abandoned infant who felt nothing but fear, and shaped her otherwise empty mind into that of a perfect predator. She couldn’t thank him enough.

She brought forth shared memories of shredding flesh with their claws, and the dying cries of their victims. Cletus’s eyes grew hooded with pleasure as Red simulated the exact same sensations he experienced during killings by manipulating his nerves. It was a fully immersive flashback, with something extra. Red twisted herself further around his body and massaged hundreds of tiny circles into his skin.

There was no end to what she would do for this man. They were both broken when they met, but now as she started to sink beneath his skin, caressing nearly every part of him, she finally felt completion.

 **They will never take you from me again.** She snaked her tendrils between his thighs and shared in his pleasure as he ground against her. She helped him relive Carnage’s finest moments as she continued to stimulate him physically. Touching him was addictive in its own right. She loved the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the was his rib cage expanded and contracted and his hips rocked. 

Pleasing him was the only thing she allowed herself to make sense of: her own personal light in the chaos she perpetuated. This substantially weaker human controlled everything about her, and she would disgrace herself for no one else.

She pushed at the waistband of his pants and he arched his hips to assist in pulling them down until his cock was exposed. Red lowered her head and extended her prehensile tongue to let the tip of it circle the head, tasting his warm skin. Her mind remained completely open, and Cletus pushed Montgomery’s murder to her through their bond. The cold chain biting into her palms, the muscles in his neck bruising, his windpipe collapsing, and the final snap of his vertebrae, all came to her as if she had snuffed out his life herself. It was such a beautiful gesture.

Determined to return the favor, she wrapped her long tongue around the shaft and stroked, tasting the pheromones his body produced. Her sharp hearing took in every sound he made, and the staccato if his heartbeat.

She in turn, sent him the taste of Davenport’s flesh and the rush of undoing every bodily system. Cletus groaned, and the rough skin of his palms brushed over her face as he reached completion. Red basked in the chemical high his brain produced. He laid back in the chair, smiling thinly.

“My red lady,” he said, running his fingers over her teeth. “Come back home.”

She obliged, and as her body covered his, their separate consciousness melded together as one. There was no longer host and symbiote. The creature standing where Cletus Kasady once did, let out a shrieking cackle. His claws extended as he opened his arms in an elated gesture at finally being complete.

“Finally.” Carnage sighed. He spared Montgomery one last glance and paused. Montgomery’s arm was still extended towards Davenport’s direction, but the tips of his fingers didn’t align with where her bones now rested. Carnage followed the line and saw that it led to the one way windows of Cletus’s containment chamber.

This asshole hadn't been reaching for the woman he was having an affair with, but for his own reflection.

Carnage threw back his head and cackled.  

Ironic that being in love with himself was the one thing they could have related on.           

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting this far! This was definitely a labor of love, and I hope you all enjoyed. I also want to say thank you to owlapin for letting me harass her with pictures of babies with Nicholas Cage's face photo-shopped on them. Without that outlet, I would have given up on my dreams. 
> 
> Let me know what you think if you have time! I really appreciate all feedback!


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